


lonely, like the walls

by catpoop



Series: Sheith Month 2017 [18]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, M/M, Past Character Death, SheithMonth2k17, keith is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 17:08:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11994219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catpoop/pseuds/catpoop
Summary: Sheith Month '17 - 28/8: DeathKeith has left his ghosts behind. Or well, he's tried.





	lonely, like the walls

**Author's Note:**

> hey. another fic  
> augsut is over (but do i look like i care)

It’s like stepping into a photograph. His memories aren’t that clear, but the dusty, fading pictures are. Keith hasn’t been flipping through them, not constantly, but he can see the town in snapshots.

The main road – where he had tripped over himself to snatch the ice-cream out of Shiro’s hands, only to realise Shiro had been handing it to him and turning back to the counter for his own. The main road – where his ice-cream splattered a second after they’d got their picture taken. Keith (five, then) had bawled his eyes out until Shiro offered him his own.

The road looks newer; they’d found the money to repave everything so that gravel no longer flies up when cars pass by. The ice-cream shop’s gone, too – but it’s been twenty years; what did Keith expect?

The flower shop, then, where Keith had followed when Shiro was in search of the perfect flower to gift to his crush. (It wasn’t until a few dates later that Shiro realised he was gay.) The picture doesn’t show Shiro, or his crush, or even the entire shop. Just a quarter of it, with Keith beaming a gap-toothed smile at the photographer.

Then the playground – Shiro broke his arm. The river – Keith caught his first fish. The dirt trail – leading into their

First kiss. First wishes. First hopes and dreams, scattered in the skies above. It’s overcast now, not to mention daytime. Keith might glance upwards later, if he’s feeling brave. But now, there’s just the steering wheel in front of him and the properly-paved road to his old family home. Once his foster parents’, and now his. Keith isn’t really sure if he wants it, not when _Shiro’s_ home is just a walk away.

It’s still there. He can see it out of the corner of his eye.

Sighing, Keith parks his car, and re-enters his childhood home.

\-----

He’s quick to give in. Stupidly so.

Shiro’s house is visible from his bedroom, the windows empty and aged but still achingly familiar. His legs carry him there before he can try to stop them.

_Hey, Shiro. I’m back._

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Keith recalls that the house still belongs to the Shirogane family; that it isn’t deserted; that _doing this_ is trespassing. He unpicks the lock and pushes the door open nonetheless.

It’s everything that he expected, and nothing like the past. There would be Shiro and the twin sisters running around, the smell of food from the kitchen; the smell of a genuine home. The floorboards creak now, but in the past they were gleaming, well-kept despite every spill and accident. The house hasn’t been cleared out fully; Keith can see packing boxes stacked in a corner, and a sheet thrown over what has to be the new armchair. 

Well. It’s not very new anymore.

It’s the middle of the day outside, but in here, Keith feels cold. Shivery. Like time has stopped, and he’s just heard that the Shirogane family is moving away, a few weeks after he did. He takes quiet, respectful footsteps towards the staircase, then up towards Shiro’s bedroom.

It’s going to hurt, Keith tells himself, but now that he’s here already …

The door creaks open when he gives it a gentle push – then slams shut. Keith jumps, choking on a yelp. _Was the house not empty after all?_

“Hey, um –” He clears his throat but his voice still quavers. “I’m sorry, is someone in there? I’ll – uh – leave now.” Careful not to trip over his own feet, Keith takes a nervous step backwards. The staircase back down looks a lot more ominous than it did before.

Then the door swings open. Keith makes a strangled noise, feeling the thudding in his chest increase to near-deafening as he turns back around. To face Shiro’s bedroom.

It’s not an axe murderer lying in wait, but what he sees isn’t much better. A dust devil of some sort, an amorphous form, a –

Keith doesn’t want to say ghost, even if he can make out Shiro’s features; Shiro’s too-youthful face.

“K e I TH?” His voice is a hollow replica, echoing and distorted and out of sync with his mouth. 

A shiver lances up his spine, burning discomfort into his nerves. “No, I –” Keith peers past the apparition and into the past; Shiro’s organised room stares back at him. “No – I, you’re –”

“KE i t H?”

“ – you’re dead!” Keith whispers. “Leave me alone.” 

Shiro’s expression morphs into what could be disappointment, but Keith doesn’t stay to double-check. He takes the steps three at a time, heart hammering and eyes blurring. He can hear his name, repeated in that mockery of Shiro’s voice, but it fades once he leaves the damned house behind, soles slapping against the pavement until he reaches the safety of his old home.

He doesn’t feel very safe.

 _He’s gone, I mourned him, I moved on, I –_ Keith worries at his jacket; stares blankly at the table. He’d come back here to check out the house ( _his_ , not Shiro’s), not to rekindle his grief. Even though the graveyard is a drive away. Even though his house is next doors, and – _whatever that was_ , lurking in his bedroom.

Sleep doesn’t come easy that night.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading  
> comments r greatly appreciated
> 
> want to request a fic or a fic continuation? come yell at me swummeng-geys.tumblr.com  
> twitter: @hashtag_yikes


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